Live and Learn
by Perfinson99
Summary: A short coming of age and growth kind of story about Claire, Leon, and Sherry as they adjust to their new life together, shortly after the Raccoon City Incident.
1. Chapter 1

-A January evening, 7:30 PM, Claire and Leon's Apartment-

"What are you getting at?!" Leon retorted at Claire, punctuated with a dismissive roll of the eyes.

"Are you kidding me Leon?!" She snapped back, genuinely insulted at the implication. Conscious of the fact Sherry was in the adjacent room, she lowered her voice to a borderline growl which slipped through her clenched teeth. "Have you listened to a single _**freakin**__' _thing I've been saying to you?"

"Well, yeah. But...it-"

"But **what**?!" she whipped back, voice rising in pitch to match the scowl taking form upon her face. Initially a room apart, they were now within arms reach of one another.

Leon retreated into himself in a sudden moment of clarity juxtaposed against the tension of the arguement. He swore up and down he had listened to all she had to say, but failed to take to heart what she was **_really_** trying to get across to him. She had been skirting around and dropping not-so-subtle hints about...moving forward for weeks now. Not betweem them necessarily, but towards the future in general. However, they both were keenly, if not mutually aware their futures would be intertwined with one another's. He did his best to keep their conversations confined to abstractions and generalizations, pulling back whenever Claire felt she was getting a glimpse of how he really felt about...everything.

Leon restablished footing in the present moment as a feeling not quite unlike embarrasement, but not that of defeat washed over him. His annoyed smirk faded in unison with the tension in his neck and shoulders. His gaze met the floor, rebounded in an attempt to reconnect with Claire's prying eyes, before retreating back the floor again. Claire studied Leon and not only took notice of, but understood what his change of posture was communicating. She herself was taken aback with a sudden clarity, but emotion was the clear winner in this battle. Despite sincere protest, tears began taking form in the inner corner of her eyes. Her vision moved towards the corner of the kitchen table barely visible from the living room, before returning to meet Leon's now prying gaze.

He extended his left hand toward Claire's shoulder. "Claire, I think we nee-"

She jerked her shoulder away and took a half-step back the second the tip of his fingers made contact. Leon withdrew his hand but left it hover in the growing distance between the two. "I just...I want to be alone right now, _**ok**_?!" she said as her mounting frustration made itself heard. Claire dreaded nothing more than the thought of showing any vulnerability, the discomfort building inside her by the millisecond. Overwhelmed and increasingly claustrophobic within the confines of the situation at hand, she attempted to slink past Leon. Reflexively, Leon caught and grasped Claire by her wiry wrist. Leon was just as surprised at the impulsiveness as was Claire. While he was stunned with shock, she slipped her wrist through his thumb and forefinger faster than he could think to release his grip.

Eyes wide, mouth slightly agape, Leon attempted to sound out an apology. "I'm sor-"

"Just please...let me go..." Claire replied in an anxious yet subdued tone as she restrained herself from shouting.

Brushing away the tears, she made way towards the apartment door. Halfway out the door, she craned her head back. "I'm going out...just, please...stay hom-" before being cut off by a sniffle which brought with it even more tears.

"Hey, wait!", Leon interjected. Quickly exiting his field of view, he could hear the thudding of her boots descending the stairwell, soon followed by the light slam and click of the door as momentum brought it to a close. His right hand motioned toward the door through no input of his own, but he brought himself to a stop and let out a sigh. "Shit" he worded under his breath as he rubbed his brow. His instinct was to give chase to Claire, but he understood it would just make the dramatic situation even worse. Besides, she could obviously handle herself, taking mental note of how quick she was on her feet. He took a deep breath and seated himself on the couch. He cupped his hands together with his elbows on thighs, forming a seal around his nose, forefingers rubbing the inner corners of his eyes. "Why doesn't anybody _**listen**_ to me?", he brooded as he felt the gravity of the situation weighing him down.

Leon sulked in that position for what seemed like an hour ruminating over what it was _really_ all about. No particular train of thought or replayed scenario held his attention; only an overarching realization; he was boxed in, understanding _everything_ was now on the line. Sure, call it a mistake, but what do you call a mistake you make time and time again? A decision. All the times he had pulled away from Claire, leaving her hanging from the tattered and tangled rope ladder of her own uncertainties. Overwhelmed with sheer emotion fueled by his actions and insecurities, he began to crack. Much like a crack forming in drywall it was miniscule, only spidering in a slow, minute creep as it grew weary of the burden it was designed to support.

Claire **was** his world, even if he didn't admit to it. Chalk it up the mutual circumstances, the sheer attraction...he was in love, madly at that. Over the last three months... all they've been through; all throughout he tried his hardest to keep a stoic persona about him. He justified to himself that he was acting as he was for Claire, to help her navigate through her own healing process. She was a tough girl, her tomboyish resourcefulness and wits continuously impressing him. He knew she valued her independence; it was the capstone of her personality after all. She didn't need a **_therapist_**, she needed someone like...uhhmm. Leon's train of thought came to an abrupt halt as he drew a blank. "Why the hell didn't I just listen to her...?" he lip-synced but kept his voice confined to his mind.

"What have I done?" he interrogated himself, visualizing himself as a prisoner locked in the jail cell that was his own head. The seemingly innocent metaphor reanimated and unleashed a flood of memories from that single day he was an officer. His mind raced as he relived all the horrifying moments he had struggled to push out of his mind, as if they never happened. He began to entertain the thought he wasn't doing it for her, but rather using the persona as a mask to avoid facing the reality of the world as it was; and how it is now.

A sense of dread presided over him and took command of his thought process, bringing him out of his headspace and back into the world. He became aware of the patterns and colors taking shape from the rubbing in the dark canvas of his closed eyes. Upon opening his eyes, the halogen light beaming from the fixture above flooded his vision as he took in all the details of the room, where every object now seemed to have a cartoonish outline. He took an instinctive peek at his watch, which affirmed only 12 minutes had passed. Slowly, he lifted himself off the couch and scanned the alien feeling room. Shaking his head, he thought, "Maybe a drink wouldn't be such a bad idea...".

He made a beeline for the kitchen, and upon entering his vision homed in on the cabinet above the fridge. A sensation of warmth radiating from his core swept over his body as he grabbed the small bottle of whiskey and his favorite shot glass. He knew he would have to speak to Sherry soon to let her know what was going on, and assured himself he would limit the drinking to a single shot. He set the bottle and glass alongside the sink, and remembered he had left a half can of cola on the table an hour prior. He spun around to grab the can, but his eyes were met with a twinkle of light shimmering off the exposed steel of Claire's Smith and Wesson nestled in her drop-leg holster. "How the hell...?" He chided himself for not catching it on his way in. In his defense the worn, tawny leather of the holster blended in well with the scuffed finish of the secondhand kitchen table.

Leon's heart nearly jumped out of his chest. Claire wouldn't have left the apartment without her handgun, no way in hell. Not after everything that's happened. Unless, maybe...she _**did**_ leave without it. A surge of adrenaline shot an acute wave of warmth up from chest to his face as worry took grip of his consciousness. He scrambled to their living room window, which gave him a panoramic view the complex's parking lot. It took almost no time for him to identify the outline of the Jeep they shared. A streelight in the alleyway running alonside the parking lot enveloped the vehicle with its shine. Face so close to the window, a layer of condensation had formed. He took the opportunity to wipe the somewhat spotty window with his sleeve and reoriented himself to get a better view, right hand now acting a visor. He could clearly see the outline of a person reclined in the driver seat, as well as the faint glow of the LED lights on the dashboard. He shifted his feet towards the apartment entrance but stopped himself, remembering Sherry was still in her bedroom.

"Sherry...". He allowed himself a deep breath and a moment to compose himself. He made his way to her bedroom door and knocked gently, simultaneously asking "Can I come in?"

"Yeah, you can come in..." Sherry replied with an inflection that revealed genuine concern.

Leon entered the blue-painted bedroom adorned in all sorts of cutesy child's memorabilia. Closing the gap between the door and the bed where Sherry sat upright, he sheepishly asked her, "How ya' doin'?" as he feigned a half smile. He was at a loss how he should address her. Sherry held no such pretense of subtlety.

"What's wrong?! Why are you guys fighting? Is it because of me?" Sherry implored at a mile-a-minute pace. Leon's heart sunk into his chest, inundated with sympathy for the poor girl's anxiousness.

"No, it's nothing you did. It's... it's _complicated_...". Fumbling with his own thoughts, he wished he could explain with better detail in a way Sherry's young self could understand.

"Why is Claire mad at you? Why did she slam the door?!", Sherry said, begging for immediate answers. Leon took notice of distress visible in her eyes. Leon took a knee and placed his hands over her shoulders. Now eye level with Sherry, he said in a hushed, consoling tone, "I haven't been the best to Claire. I've let her down...hard." Despite all the rumination, he himself was shocked by the poignancy of the simple recounting. Sherry stared at Leon, craving a more elaborate explanation.

"Uhh...uhmm...listen,...Claire didn't leave. She's in the parking lot. I'm gonna' try and make things right..." he said, punctuated by a sigh. While serving as a sufficient answer for her questions, he was mindful that his reply served as a confession of what he needed to do himself.

Sherry _was_ satisfied with his answer, but a new anxiety brought forth a new concern. "How long are you going to be gone?"

Leon embraced Sherry in a hug and assured her, "I'll only be a few minutes. Do you think you can take care of yourself while I'm gone?"

What bothered Sherry wasn't being _alone_, but the thought of _change_,... Claire and Leon not being together. She had grown extremely attached to the couple, coming to view them in the same way she had viewed her late parents. While she was practically attached at the hip to Claire, she had grown quite close to Leon. Even at her young age, she was well aware of the speed at which life can drastically change. She was growing to understand the tenuous order of the world after her experiences. Sherry wasn't clueless; even though she didn't quite understand, she empathized with Leon and knew adults have spats for reasons _just_ outside the reach of her comprehension. Regardless, what mattered to her most was seeing the couple reunited; in the same room, together, and soon.

"Yeah... I'll be ok...Will Claire be with you when you get back?"

"I promise.", Leon said with a warm yet authoritative tone. "Keep the door locked. If you need _**anything**_, we'll be right outside."

Sherry complied with Leon's directions, opting to remain silent. Leon rose to his feet and made his way out the door. While turning the knob, he looked back to Sherry. "I'...we'll only be a few.", he reaffirmed, eyes breaking contact with Sherry's as he took a quick glance at the floor. He closed the door gently and made his way to the kitchen. He did **not** want Claire to see the whiskey, nor for it to be out around Sherry. Being mindful of any creaks the hardwood floor would resonate, he grabbed the glass and bottle and stepped lightly over to the impromptu alcohol cabinet. Slowly, he opened the tiny door and returned the two partners in crime back to their rightful place out of view, huddled away in the furthest corner. Admittedly, he was just the slightest bit proud of himself for showing that modicum of restraint. He inhaled deeply and made his way to the apartment door.


	2. Chapter 2

-7:33 PM, Just Outside Claire and Leon's Apartment-

Claire's boots felt like dumbbells tied to her feet, and they certainly sounded the part as she descended the stairs. Though her legs grew heavy from the adrenaline, she felt a subtle pat of relief, now free from that _mess_. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she came to an abrupt stop upon entering the lowest floor's corridor. She extended her palm out to the nearest wall, not as to balance herself, but rather to ground herself. She ran the tips of her fingers in little circles along the biege, textured surface, breathing in and out slowly to a count, subconsciously tracing the scuffs and irregular patterns imprinted on it. While only an abridged and half-hearted recreation of the method her brother taught her years ago, it helped. The little breathing exercise was as comforting as the memories attached to it. As her breath steadied, so did her heartbeat; the steady drizzle of tears coming to a halt. Awakened to the fact she's been gawking at her hand for a solid minute, she shifted her eye's intent upon the door at the end of hall. She took one deep, final breath and departed for the door. She braced herself, knowing full well the frigid, January air was awaiting on the other side. As she yanked open the door the cold air seeped in, and she trailed the warm air rushing out as she made her way to the car.

She felt up both of her pockets. The keys were there; as was sudden realization that her holster was absent. "**Goddammit**...", she exasperated, chest constricting. Any other time it would've been the other way around. Still, she hoisted herself into the Jeep, jamming the keys in the ignition. She reclined back, locking her hands together behind the headrest, pinning it against the back of her head. "Shit...shit..._**shit**_...", foot tapping in an off-tempo harmony with every profanity. "There goes that idea..." she thought.

More than anything, she wanted to go for a drive, like the ones she used to on her motorcycle to clear her mind. She knew nothing was _really_ stopping her from leaving, but she wouldn't...couldn't; not without her Model 649, but going back upstairs wasn't an option. No way in hell. Maybe the adrenaline had ran its course, or maybe it just was the shivering cold,...the discomfort gave way to the realization she was now stuck between a rock and a hard place. Left hand locking the doors, her right reached for the heating knob, turning it all the way to max. Her hand trailed up the center console to the volume knob. Indifferent to whatever station it was tuned to, all she wanted was noise, something to help her feel not so...vulnerable. It was always her inclination to be doing _something_, **anything** to keep busy. She wasn't used to the feeling, shuddering at the very concept. The low-blast of heat and staticy drone of the radio added something of an atmosphere to the Jeep, imbuing it with an air of safety and reprieve, like that of a childhood bedroom. She began to relax as the tension released its grip over her body, enticing her to retreat within herself.

Before... _everything_, it was always her and Chris. He taught her so much; so much more than even he knew. After he left for the Air Force, these lessons stuck with her not only molding her into who she was, but saving her life. She owed it all to him. After their parents passed, Chris had taken on the role of a father figure. Sure, he had no choice in the manner, but he didn't handle as if it were simply an inevitability; he embraced it with a sort of refined grace typically reserved for the likes of a grandparent. Despite possessing this latent wisdom far beyond his years he was still young himself, and these two states of being often clashed. On one hand, he showed her the very essense of independence. Being capable, quick on your feet, throwing caution to the wind as the day brings whatever it may. On the other, he was...brash, boyish. It wasn't always his intention, but he was impulsive at times, quick to defend his ego. She definitely had to read between the lines, but she gained a keen sense of how important pride was to men.

She saw so much of Chris in Leon, all of it, the good and the...not-so-good. She understood why he was playing the little act he had been putting on. She saw right through it from day one, but couldn't bring herself to hold it against him, not after what happened in that godforsaken city. They talked about what happened almost every night, never going into much detail, leaving each other only snippets of their experiences. Slowly, they had chipped away at one another as they pieced together the mess. Without fail, she picked-up on the tension as it manifested not only in his body, but in his words whenever the conversation grew _**too**_ vivid for his liking. Bringing the conversation towards the future worked to relax him slightly; she could feel the tension leave his body, but it would still hold a loose chain around his words. She tried her hardest to comfort him, having grown to absolutely adore Leon in their brief time together. He was a looker for sure, but what truly had her hooked was all the potential she realized he had. She was everything she loved in men; capable, but with a gentler, if a little naive, sort of energy about him. She was in love...simple as that. She had no reservations over dropping the big L, but maybe the time wasn't right. Too much too soon, she figured

As much as she couldn't help but draw parallels between him and Chris, she also couldn't help but see herself in him too. She never really brought up the fact her parents had died to Leon. He knew, and he asked about it every now and again. She would brush it off, always detracting it with a quick something like, "It was so long ago, I was so young.", or "I didn't really get to know them too well.", never failing to steer the conversation towards yet another recounting of one of the many "Adventures of Claire and Chris".

Truth be told, she never stopped being sad about it. The world ceased to be quite as colorful after that; the thought hung over her like a cloud that never seemed to dissipate, even if didn't always block the sun. Over time, she learned to...forget, or at least hide away from the feeling. The whirlwind that is adolescence kept her occupied whether it was school, college, or just being a kid. After dropping school for the time and moving in together, life had slowed. It was easier back then, but she'd be lying if she said it hadn't been on her mind heavily as of late. As much as she wanted to talk to Leon about them, she held back. He was dealing with his own problems, and she had Sherry if she ever...

"**Sherry**!". She jolted out of her dreamlike state as she futily pushed against the locked door. Guilt ensnared her conscious as she realized she had stormed out of the apartment without her. As she reached for the lock button, she hesitated. As much as she wanted to go back upstairs, she couldn't; not yet. Besides, Leon was there to take care of her. She calmed herself, slumping back into her seat, lip-syncing to herself "I'll only be a few more...".

She took a bated, drawn out breath, resigning herself to a new position as she curled up in the seat, now staring out the window. The stars shone proudly, dotting the foreground of the dark canvas that was the night sky, streetlight in the alleyway bathing the small parking lot in a soft amber glow. It was the prettiest picture, inspiring a luminous warmth to beam in her chest that captured the essence of the comforting glow draping the parking lot. The apartment complex they lived in wasn't fancy, not by any means, but it was perfect as far as she was concerned. The life she, Leon, and Sherry were building in the little apartment together, it seemed almost too perfect, especially with Sherry in the picture... it may as well of have been made in heaven. They saved each other, even if Sherry hadn't grasped it _just_ yet. After their escape Claire took over much like her brother had done for her, becoming a surrogate mother to Sherry. In all honesty she felt more like her older sister. It was so beautifully close the bond she and Chris had shared, and she loved every single minute of the time they spent together.

As she was beginning to lull herself into back into a sentimental trance, she caught a movement in her periphery captured by the driver's side mirror. She instinctively reached for her side, hands failing to grip the handgun she desperately wished was there. She settled for balling her hand into a fist, letting go just as soon as she recoginzed the silhouette. Her heart dropped, though she was relieved it was Leon, or at least she had assumed. She shifted her gaze to the mirror, studying the silhouette's sway as it strode towards the car.

"Yup, it's him..." the streetlight now shining on him ended the debate. They were practically staring at one another through the mirror, and she took note of a glumness presiding over his otherwise neutral expression. She didn't necessarily look _thrilled_ herself but she was admittedly happy to see him, if only because he wasn't something much more terrifying. His frame engulfed the mirror, his body now obscuring the light entering the through the window. She shifted her eyes intent up to Leon's, and his reciprocated in kind unto hers.

*To be Continued*


	3. Chapter 3

-7:53 PM, Claire and Leon's Jeep-

Leon tapped the driver's window half-heartedly, only using the knocking knuckle of his forefinger. It's not as if he needed to announce his presence. He felt a lump take form in his throat, growing larger the longer he locked eyes with Claire. Despite the less than pleasant circumstances, she was inundated with a tinge of sympathy for him, like one would feel for a stray dog stuck out in the cold. She pressed down on the power window switch, their stare's unwavering as they waited on the whirring of the window to fade as it sunk into the door. Leon bent slightly at the knees, figuring the click of the window stopping at the end of the track would serve as his cue to speak up.

*Click*

Before he could get a word out, Claire cut him off.

"Leon...just get in the car." Sooner than she could turn down the volume on the radio, he was at the passenger side door. Leon tried to open the door in vain, giving it an extra pull to signal it wouldn't open. It took her a second or two to remember she had locked the car earlier. "Oh yeah", she muttered under her breath and reached for the lock.

*Click*

"Claire...". Leon entered the car and fumbled around in the seat trying to get comfortable, not daring to break eye contact for a second time. Neither had any clue how to even begin the conversation. Both of their hearts were beating rapidly, locked in a marathon sprint against one another's. Leon had felt confident leaving the apartment, thinking he could somehow count on his lucky stars to make everything right. That all went out the window as his mind conjured up the millions of ways it could go completely south. How would he explain himself, explain it to Sherry if he didn't come back with Claire, or explain to her that he didn't bring...

"**Sherry**, where is she?!" Claire interrogated, breaking the silence, her hand now fixed on the door handle.

"She's fine! The doors locked... She knows where we're at." It seemed to fall on deaf ears, and she began to push the door open. Leon reached his hand for her arm, being mindful not to squeeze this time around.

"Just _wait_..." His touch and inflection disarmed her. He didn't come off as angry, but rather...genuine, desperate too. She really didn't want to bring this mess back upstairs. Now that Leon wasn't with Sherry, she just wanted it all to end, if only for her sake. She paused and sighed, slowly closing the door as she turned towards to Leon.

"How'd you know I was still here?"

"Your gun...you left without it."

"Yeah, I know..." She struggled to find the words to follow up with. She'd by lying if she said it wasn't a sweet gesture. She shifted her gaze to the floor.

"Claire, listen..." He hesitated over his words, taking care to choose the least worse option he could perceive. It was going better than expected, but nowhere near how he had hoped. Maybe dissapointing Sherry was the only _real_ choice he had. He wrapped his hand around the door handle. "I'm not gonna' stop you, but don't leave without your gun. Just wait here..."

He would've been halfway out the door if Claire hadn't caught him by his wrist. "_**No**_... you don't have to."

Leon, still convinced he was resigned to the fate he decided was his to bear, asked "Do you want mine then?". Leon patted his waistband, suprised to find his gun wasn't with him either.

She thought she made her intentions rather clear, her hand still grasping his wrist. She clasped both of her hands around Leon's left, hoping to soften the incoming bluntness. She sighed, "I'm staying, _alright_?"

Hearing that...feeling her hands...it was music to his ears, her words the melody and her touch the rhythmn. He took a deep breath and eased back into his seat, mirroring Claire as he brought his right hand into the fold. The relief coaxed him into admitting, "Thank God, cause' I don't have mine either".

He had hoped it would add some much needed humor to the situation, but instead he felt Claire's grip tighten over his hands. He studied her expression, awestruck at what lied before him, the amber glow from the streetlight contrasting wonderfully with the blue of her eyes. He would've found himself drowning in the blue if he hadn't taken notice of her pupils enlarging, as if they were parting the shimmering sea he saw in her irises. He understood what her expression was conveying, remembering his training at the police academy. Whether it was gauging a suspect's reaction to a question, or conducting a field sobriety test...reading pupils was a part of being a cop. He couldn't help but begin to envision himself clad in his R.P.D. uniform...

After hearing Leon didn't have his handgun on him, Claire grew nervous. It was bad enough Sherry was by herself but now they were outside, alone together and unarmed. She knew they were only a few hundred feet away from their apartment, but she dreaded that feeling of vulernability so, so much. She had fixed her gaze unto Leon's, hoping to find even just a hint of reassurance. And she did find it, at least at first. After he had revealed that, his expression found itself landed somewhere between perturbed and amused, and it was stuck like that. His otherwise delicate features now looked stunningly masculine shaded by the darkness of the car, the amber light tracing a halo-like glow along the outline of his straw blonde hair. Her heart began to melt, finding the very sight of him absolutely adorable in every possible way. In him she saw...home, a home away from home, the home she always wanted, the one she needed. And just as soon as she began to appreciate it, the halo-glow faded away, his expression now vacant as he tightened his hold on her hands

Claire shook their interlocked hands, rousing Leon out of his stupor.

"We should really get going.", Claire said breaking the silence yet again. It took Leon took a moment to recollect himself.

"Yeah...good idea." She wiggled her fingers in an effort to free herself of the kitschy bouquet of hands they had made together. Leon held his grip firm, bringing her closer to him.

"Before we get inside...I wanna say sorry. For not listening to you and being weird about...**_everything_**. I'm _sorry_..."

She wanted to fall through the seat and sink into the floor. She could tell he was trying as hard as he could from his expression, his tone of voice. It was sincere, and he absolutely meant what he said. She savored the sentiment, knowing how much he **did** care. He was _so_ close to getting it too. She didn't mind the little act, understanding the place he was coming from...literally. More than anything, it was the drinking. He didn't drink **_every_** night, but it was becoming more and more common. He never acted much different, only becoming the slightest bit listless. But the color, it would seem to fade from his eyes, maybe just obscured by the slight droop of his eyelids. She'd always be able to smell it on his breath, taste it with his kisses. It worried her deeply, but she couldn't find within herself to talk to him about it. At least until earlier today. It's what started the whole argument in the first place. It seems so silly, but he had left a pair of pants on the bathroom floor. She picked them up, and they wreaked of spilt liquor. She brought it up to him, and it blew up from there...it really was a _mess_. He didn't seem to get it however. She didn't want to leave him hanging thinking he it all figured out and under control, but the timing could not have been worse.

"Come here." Leon said in an affectionate tone, pulling Claire in even closer, kissing her on the forehead. A slight smile grew on her face not because it was sweet of him, but that familar smell of cheap whiskey...it wasn't there. She had expected him to have snuck a shot or two from the bottle in his not-so-secret hiding place above the fridge. She found herself curious. She didn't smell it, but she really couldn't be certain he hadn't. It was difficult to get a good read of his face with the lack of light. "One way to find out..." she thought to herself as she tried to muffle a sharp exhale. She affixed her eyes onto Leon's, now pulling him in close to her. She craned her head ever so slightly, and he gladly took the hint. They locked lips, Claire pressing against his much harder than he was. It caught him off guard, especially the way she had worked her tongue into his mouth. He couldn't believe his luck, this could not have possibly gone any better as far as he was concerned. Just as he began to press into the kiss to match hers, she pulled way. She was now smiling ear to ear, satisfied with what she had found out. She was so satisfied she gave Leon an affectionate peck on the forehead, returning the favor and lulling him into sprouting a surprised grin. He felt on top on the world, even if his expression tried to humble him.

"What was that?" Leon asked with a titter

"You looked like you could use one too." He was off the hook, at least for right now. Besides, Sherry... "We should get going."

"Yeah..." he nodded in agreement. "See you outside."

*To Be Continued*


End file.
